The Hariri Mosque in downtown Beirut. The anti-government protesters in tents are nearby to the left. Rafik Hariri was the Prime Minister of Lebanon and the master-mind behind the downtown reconstruction.
Construction continues in downtown Beirut, remodleing it into a European-esque city even though the downtown area is quite empty of shoppers.
The religious atmosphere in Beirut. There are two mosques in this picture with a church as the third tower in the back right. This reflects the actual demographic as well of 30% Sunni Muslim, 35-40% Shiite Muslim, and 30% Christian.
"The Martyr's" Statue in Martyr's Square, downtown Beirut. Currently it is located near the Hariri Mosque, which some may deem appropriate given Hariri's assassination two years ago.Our week “off” is officially over, having ended with Alethia’s birthday on Saturday. Both of us had spent the latter part of last week feeling quite sick, part exhaustion, part extreme heat and tension, but decided to go to the ancient port city of Byblos (north from Beirut on the coast) for Alethia’s birthday. So after taking some medicine and asking which buses went to Byblos, we finally found ourselves in the small and beautiful seaside city. We spent the day wandering around the ancient citadel ruins, shopping in the newly remodeled “old market,” and enjoying a meal of fabulously fresh seafood for Alethia’s birthday lunch, complete with chocolate cake for dessert ☺ It was a good day all around, perhaps one of the most peaceful and relaxing days we have spent here.
Ryan near a column at Byblos with the Crusader's citadel (castle) behind. We figured out the direct sun on Ryan's head and sudden movement to cold air-conditioned places was the cause of his sickness, hence the nifty little hat.
Alethia taking advantage of the shade of a palm tree with the Crusader's citadel in the background. Byblos is said to be one of the oldest, continuously lived-in cities in the world. The site contains ruins from 3000 BC, Roman and Persian ruins, and obviously a citadel from the Crusaders during the 12th century.
The view from our table during Alethia's birthday lunch, overlooking the port of Byblos.
What birthday wouldn't be complete without some birthday cake. That is Foundant au chocolat, a chocolate cake oozing with chocolate sauce served with ice cream and accompanied by a glass of Lebanon's finest white wines.Last week we were able to do some processing, but recognize that much more is needed. However, this week we are spending time with a struggling ministry called “Home of Hope” –a home for children who would otherwise be on the street somewhere. And although it is located in a Christian neighborhood, it has received quite a bit of criticism from other Christian organizations and it seems that if its neighbors had their way, it would be shut down---many of these kids are of a Muslim background. So this leads to all kinds of questions about what it is that other Christians desire to criticize and what the future of these kids will hold? After all, funding is quickly running out with none promised for the very near future. Unfortunately, the kids are also feeling the uncertainty of what will happen to them. We find ourselves there this week in the midst of our own questions about forms of ministry (what works, what doesn’t in this context?), about our own passions and what we have to offer, about identity and theology, about faith and humanity…all of it. Needless to say it’s a bit difficult at times.
This past Sunday we were in church while Martin was speaking about prayer. This was perhaps the first time that I (Alethia) realized that our time here is indeed drawing to a close and that more often than not, the only way I have been able to come through it is by being in a state of constant prayer even if it’s angry and saddened prayer about the situation here, or fearful prayer, not knowing what is true and what is not or what the future holds. Often it has been thankful prayer for the things that we are experiencing together and learning and being exposed to, even when it is difficult. So sitting in church was a peaceful and genuine experience on that particular Sunday, not something I can always say about church structure. With the current situation, the history of this place, and the questions about its future, it often feels as though all we can do as a church is to pray.
We have found Kahlil Gibran’s poem particularly meaningful these days in this place and so we would like to share it with you…(and yes, Robert Fisk took his book title about Lebanon during the civil war from Gibran’s words):
Pity the Nation
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks as wine that flows not from its own winepress.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity the nation that despises a passion in its dream, yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking.
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years and whose strong men are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.
We begin our last two weeks here in Lebanon and look forward to a few days of rest and sightseeing in Jordan as a way of starting a process of self debriefing before arriving back in the States in early August. We pray in the meantime that the situation in Lebanon continues to hold stable. There is a saying about “wars and rumors of wars” and this is appropriate here in the Middle East this summer…we appreciate your prayers not just for the peace of Lebanon while we are here, but for the peaceful future of the region as a whole.
This past Sunday we were in church while Martin was speaking about prayer. This was perhaps the first time that I (Alethia) realized that our time here is indeed drawing to a close and that more often than not, the only way I have been able to come through it is by being in a state of constant prayer even if it’s angry and saddened prayer about the situation here, or fearful prayer, not knowing what is true and what is not or what the future holds. Often it has been thankful prayer for the things that we are experiencing together and learning and being exposed to, even when it is difficult. So sitting in church was a peaceful and genuine experience on that particular Sunday, not something I can always say about church structure. With the current situation, the history of this place, and the questions about its future, it often feels as though all we can do as a church is to pray.
We have found Kahlil Gibran’s poem particularly meaningful these days in this place and so we would like to share it with you…(and yes, Robert Fisk took his book title about Lebanon during the civil war from Gibran’s words):
Pity the Nation
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks as wine that flows not from its own winepress.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity the nation that despises a passion in its dream, yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking.
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years and whose strong men are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.
We begin our last two weeks here in Lebanon and look forward to a few days of rest and sightseeing in Jordan as a way of starting a process of self debriefing before arriving back in the States in early August. We pray in the meantime that the situation in Lebanon continues to hold stable. There is a saying about “wars and rumors of wars” and this is appropriate here in the Middle East this summer…we appreciate your prayers not just for the peace of Lebanon while we are here, but for the peaceful future of the region as a whole.
2 comments:
Wow, thank you for sharing guys! I pray that your last few days in Lebanon are restful, reflective, healthy, and joyful.
And--HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALETHIA!!! Looks like you enjoyed yourself. And that is a great hat Ryan. :)
We miss y'all here in Pasadena but I am so excited by what you both are doing and learning.
Did you have a chance to see the inscriptions at the Dog River crossing (نهر الكلب)? For the past three thousand years or so, any time an army has marched along the coast, they've left their mark. Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, the French, the British... Sadly, "wars and rumours of war" are nothing new to the Levant.
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